


Worth Waiting For

by clgfanfic



Category: Soldier of Fortune Inc.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post "Missing in Action."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth Waiting For

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Don't Ask, Don't Tell #2 under the pen name Layel Karson.

          He grinned as he neared the bleachers.  Sitting on the top row, grinning back at him, was one of the best looking men he'd ever known.

          "What're ya doin' here?" Benny Ray asked as he reached the seats.

          Chance shrugged and smiled.  "Didn't have anything else to do, and I remembered you said Ben had a game today.  Thought I'd check it out."

          Benny Ray climbed up to join his teammate, sitting down next to him.  He used his hand to shade his eyes as he scanned the field, looking for his and Mary Ellen's oldest son.  He spotted Ben among a group of boys standing along the first-base line, their coach giving them a pre-game pep talk.  He glanced over at the black man.  "Appreciate it, amigo."

          Chance grinned almost shyly, then asked, "Where are Peter and Katie?" as he glanced around, looking for Benny Ray's other two kids.

          "Katie's got a karate class and Peter's at his piano lesson."

          Chance shook his head.  "Man, how do you keep it all straight?"

          It was Benny Ray's turn to grin.  "Can't.  Never could.  Mary Ellen has to do that.  These days I just get the calls tellin' me where to go and when to be there."  
          A soft chuckle was Chance's reply.  "She's giving you more time with them, then?"

          "Yeah, some.  I think she's finally getting' over the mad about me takin' this job with the Major."

          They both leaned back, watching the boys take their places on the field.  "She's gotta know you were going stir crazy working for the LAPD," Chance offered, waving at Ben when the boy spotted them.  Benny Ray did the same, adding a thumbs-up.

          The game got underway, parents, siblings and friends finding places in the bleachers.  Benny Ray clapped loudly and whistled.  Ben looked up from his position at third base, then smiled and waved at his dad again.  "Yeah, she knew," the sniper finally said.  "But she thought when I left the Corp that I was finally gonna be around to help with the kids.  Now she thinks I'm gonna get myself killed and leave 'em without a daddy…  Guess that's why she's lookin' for somebody t' take my place."

          "Nobody can take your place, Benny Ray," Chance assured his friend.  "Maybe she's just lonely."

          Benny Ray shrugged.  "Guess I can appreciate that," he said, his tone wistful.

          Chance reached out and squeezed his friend's shoulder.  "Hey, you'll always be their daddy, no matter what happens.  They love you, Benny Ray, nothing's going to change that."

          "Hope you're right," the sniper replied, watching as the opposing team scored its first run.

          The two men fell into companionable silence as they watched the game unfold.  Both erupted into wild cheers whenever Ben's team scored a run, caught a fly, or threw a runner out.  They drank sodas, ice cold from Chance's small cooler sitting next to him on the bleacher, and they bought hotdogs from a vendor who had made it a habit to set up shop next to the field whenever there was a game.

          When the game finally ended, Ben's team victorious, Chance joined Benny Ray and his son at the local Baskin Robbins for a celebratory ice cream cone.  Heading out of the store, the black man asked, "So, got any plans?"

          "I have to get Ben back for supper," Benny Ray said.  "Thought I'd swing by the gym after that."

          "Cool.  Mind if I join you?"

          "Sounds good," Benny Ray replied.  "Maybe we can grab a bite when we're done."

          Chance nodded.  "Or you can come over.  I'm watching a friend's condo and he's got a grill set up you won't believe.  We can grab a couple of steaks on the way."

          "Now _that_ sounds like a plan, amigo."

          "Can I come?" Ben asked, looking hopeful.

          "Son, you know your mama's got plans for tonight.  You're gonna go see your Aunt Sara."

          Ben sighed heavily.  "I'd rather go with you and Chance."

          The black man grinned at Benny Ray, then reached out and patted the boy's back.  "Maybe next time, kiddo."

          When they reached their vehicles, Benny Ray said, "I'll see ya at the gym is an hour or so."

          "I'll be there," Chance assured him.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          At first glance the Hermosa Coast Gym looked far from promising, but inside was a state of the art facility, complete with the latest weight machines, individual rooms for classes in everything from spinning to kickboxing, and a spa that catered to the soul as well as to the body.  But Benny Ray ignored the sophisticated equipment, heading for a set of double doors at the back of the large space.  He headed down the hallway to a set of stairs, climbing them two at a time to the second floor.

          As he stepped into the free weight room the first thing he noticed was the smell.  It was akin to old socks, and he grinned.  There was something familiar and comforting about the odor, something decidedly masculine.  He felt at home here.

Mats covered the floor, and several racks of free weights and at least a dozen adjustable benches sat scattered around the large space.  The floor to ceiling windows across the back allowed for a magnificent view of the Pacific, the beach, and the sunbathers.  Sunlight filtered through the film on the windows, casting a golden glow across the exercise area but cutting the heat to nearly nothing.

There were several men and a few women there, and Benny Ray heard snippets of conversation as he crossed the space, along with strained grunts, and the clink of weights, but he didn’t see any of the other patrons.  His attention was completely focused on one man.  At any time, and in any place, this one would have been special.

Chance had changed from his pale loose chinos and red polo shirt to a pair of faded Levi's that had been cut off just above mid-thigh and a sleeve-less baggy white t-shirt that was already soaked with enough sweat to make it cling to his muscular torso.  The details visible under the thin material were enough to make the sniper's mouth water and he swallowed hard, not wanting to give himself away.

Chance was curling a bar loaded with weights as Benny Ray walked up and he paused to watch him.  He counted twenty reps.  Sweat had popped out on the man's brow and his right arm quivered slightly.

"Come on," he encouraged, dropping his bag and stepping up in front of Chance.  The black man's gaze flashed up briefly, then locked back down on the sniper's hands, which were extended in front of him, pushing air under the bar, but never touching it, willing Chance to raise it on his own.

"Can't," he gasped, sucking air, the bar clutched tightly to his chest.

"Again," Benny Ray urged.

Chance shook his head, but slowly began to lower the bar anyway.  When it rested against his thighs, he inhaled deeply and began to curl the bar back up against his chest.

"You can do it," Benny Ray encouraged, watching as the veins that snaked over the man's perfectly shaped biceps bulged.  Chance was in perfect shape.  Not to bulky, but strong and so very well cut.

"Can't," he hissed.

The sniper's  fingers brushed against the backs of the man's hands and the bar rose another three inches.  "Come on, man.  Do it!"

"That's it.  Help me put it down."

Benny Ray grabbed the bar and helped Chance lower it to the floor.

Chance stood, and smiled.

"You okay, amigo?"

"Got a great burn," Chance replied.  "My arms feel like spaghetti."  He held them high above his head, stretching.

"Don't look much like any kinda pasta I ever saw," the sniper teased.

Chance bent down, picked up a towel and wiped his face and neck.  "Yeah?  Well, you've got a few reps to catch up to me, then we'll talk.  Come on, I'll spot for you until you're caught up."

Benny Ray flashed the man a grin, and they got down to business.

Two hours later Benny Ray felt like he'd had a great pump.  He was also basking in the comfortable friendship that had developed between he and Chance.  But, he thought, there was so much more that he wished he could share with the man.  On more than one occasion while Chance was spotting for the sniper, he made lingering body contact.  The hottest thing about it for Benny Ray was that Chance wasn't coming on to him, not consciously in any case.  He was just a guy touching another guy while he helped him work out.

The sniper sighed silently.  He was the one who was fighting back a hard-on that felt like it could have stretched all the way to Malibu.  And by the time the workout was over, he was starting to give some serious thought to how he might be able to seduce his teammate.  He shook his head.

"What?" Chance asked.

"Nothin'," Benny Ray lied.  "Let's get a shower," he added, hooking the barbell back onto the rack with a clatter.  "I'm done for."

"Bad news, Benny Ray," Chance said.  "They're shut down for another couple of hours.  Replacing a pipe.  Corrina told me when I came in."

"Well, hell," the sniper sighed.

"You brought the Big Dog, right?"

Benny Ray nodded.

"Follow me over to the condo.  It's got its own private beach; we'll take a swim and then grab a shower there."  Chance smiled, the problem solved to his obvious satisfaction.

Benny Ray nodded.  The thought of spending more time in the man's company suited him just fine.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

At the upscale condo, they were met by a barking, tail-waving melee of four Golden Retrievers.  Chance got them calmed down and then they sniffed Benny Ray's shoes and legs, then slobbered on his hands before they went back to rest in the shade of the trees growing in the large front yard.  "Dorian loves his dogs," the black man explained.  "But they're why he needs somebody to look after the place when he's gone.  Since we're on stand-down for at least another couple of weeks while Margo heals up, I told him I'd do it."

"You really think she'll last that long?"

Chance shrugged.  "Raptor did a number on her."

The sniper nodded, still feeling a little responsible about the assassin's attack on the team in an attempt to get to him.

"Come on in," Chance invited.

"This looks like some place," the sniper said, following Chance to the front door and then inside.  The condo was huge and well furnished.  Whatever the man did for a living, it obviously paid very well.

As if reading Benny Ray's mind, Chance said, "Dorian works for an Internet company that produces special effects for the movies.  He said it pays good, but I had no idea just how good until I saw this place for the first time."

Chance gave Benny Ray a tour of the living room, dining room, kitchen (almost as big as his own suite at the Silver Star), and the five bedrooms, one of which had been converted into an office that looked like something off the bridge of the _Enterprise_.  Computers and other electronic devices lined the walls floor to ceiling.  C.J. and Margo would have been in hog heaven.  The master bedroom was last, complete with a sunken hot tub and a glass wall that allowed for a breathtaking view of the property's private beach.

"Is this nice, or what?" Chance asked, grinning.

Benny Ray forced himself not to look at the king-sized bed, studying the view instead.  "Yeah, it is.  Too big for me, but it is nice."  He grinned at the black man.  "Hell, Chance, you could afford something like it yourself, if you wanted."

The man shook his head.  "Naw, I like my loft at the hanger just fine, but it's fun to see how the other half lives.  Come on," he added, "I'll show you the grill on the way down for a swim."

The back patio had a large gas grill and a smaller charcoal barbeque.  Chance had told him as they left the gym that he'd already picked up the steaks, so they'd headed straight for the condo.  Two large towels were waiting for them on a lounge chair.  Chance grabbed them and proceeded to lead the way down to the sandy beach and the lapping waves of the Pacific.

The black man peeled out of his t-shirt, then knelt to untie his shoes.  His socks followed, then he stood and unbuttoned the cut-offs, pushed them down and kicking them aside.  Benny Ray tried not to stare at the tight, rounded ass still covered in briefs that were little more than a jock strap.  That butt had haunted his dreams for months and he felt his cock stir to life.  He cursed his lack of control silently.

"This is the life," Chance said, savoring the breeze that caressed his almost completely bare skin.

Benny Ray watched as the man stretched, wondering if he was doing it to show off a little.  "Can't argue with you," he managed.

Chance turned.  "Hey, get undressed and let's get wet, man."  He watched as the sniper pulled off his tank-top first, revealing a stunning torso.  The man's pecs were flattish, beautifully squared, and dusted with dark glossy fur.  His nipples jutted through the fine short hairs, thick and pink.  The concave wall of his belly was ridged like the pilot's own with a perfect six-pack of abs.  On Benny Ray, a fine line of hair split the washboard plane down the center.

The sniper smiled nervously, then bent to untie his shoes.  When his feet were bare he stood, took a few steps toward the water, and paused, his hands at the waistband of his shorts.  He looked up and down the beach, his face rosy.

"Come on, Benny Ray, it's a private beach.  No one's going to see you."

"I, uh, I got…  I got this, uh, control problem," the sniper blurted out, his face getting redder.

"Control problem?" Chance echoed, looking confused.  "Come again?"

"I, uh, I just get– Hell, Chance, you know, I get, uh, proddy sometimes."

Chance flashed the embarrassed man an understanding grin.  "Hey, buddy, hard-ons aren't a crime; not in my book.  Tell you what: You get one, I'll do my best to get one, too.  Hell, Benny Ray, we can practice digging holes in the sand."

That drew a laugh from the sniper.  He took a deep breath and dropped his shorts, glad for the looser cotton brief he wore.  He quickly waded out to where Chance stood.

"So, how about going a mile out and then back?"

"Sounds fine to me," Benny Ray agreed.

The two men dove into the small waves, racing each other out into deeper water.  Chance relied on Benny Ray to set the pace and gage the distance, his SEAL training making it like second nature for him.  When they were both almost back to the beach, the sniper stopped, standing in chest-deep water.  Using both hands, he pushed the saltwater from his short hair.

"Now that's what I call a dip," he grinned.

"Amen, Brother Ray."

The pair splashed in the water, body-surfing a few of the larger waves into the beach.  Benny Ray challenged Chance to a race up the sandy beach, and they sprinted off, bare feet digging into the wet sand.  It was a tie by the time they turned and headed back to where they'd started from.  Without a word both men dove back into the water.

A half-hour later and they were both getting a little tired.  Chance was about three feet away from the sniper when he took a step to the side, intending on dunking Benny Ray, but he lost his footing when something shot out from under his foot.  He fell forward.  He smacked solidly against the sniper's hard body, and the man's thigh wedged between the pilot's muscular legs, mashing against his cock.  Chance's hands clamped on Benny Ray's biceps and the sniper's hands ended up encircling the black man's waist.

"Whoa, easy there, amigo."

"I stepped on a ray, maybe a sand shark," Chance explained, but his attention was on Benny Ray's hard nipples, pressing against his bare skin.  He could feel the pound of the sniper's heart, the tickle of his body hair, and the rapidly swelling shaft pressed against his hip.

Chance slowly raised his chin until his eyes met Benny Ray's.  He saw how the blue of the irises was flecked with gray, noticed how thick his lashes were, caught the pulsing of his pupils as fear and desire fought for dominance of his body.  He winked, then kissed him, a firm, chaste kiss, lips only, no hint of tongue.

Benny Ray groaned, but didn't push Chance away.  His fingers curled, digging almost painfully into the pilot's sides.  His heart beat faster and his cock gave one jump and filled to full size.

Somehow that chaste kiss ended up full of tongue – maybe it was Chance, maybe it was Benny Ray, but whoever was responsible, they found themselves standing in the water, lips locked, tongues thrashing.  Then Chance took a deep breath without breaking the lip-lock, sucking the wind right out of the sniper.  It was one of the sexiest things Benny Ray could imagine and his grip tightened.  He rubbed his aching cock against Chance's wet, smooth belly and sucked the air back out of him while he probed his mouth with his tongue.

They kept the kiss up until they were both dizzy, then broke the kiss, gasping for air in each other's arms.

"Damn, but I've been wantin' to do that for a long time," the sniper panted.

Chance grinned devilishly.  "That so?"

The sniper blushed a deep red that turned the rims of his ears scarlet.  He glanced away, saying, "Yeah.  And if you wanna deck me now, go ahead."

"Hell, Benny Ray," Chance replied, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders, "I've been waiting long enough myself."

The sniper looked back, his blue eyes rounded in surprise.

"Come on," the pilot grinned, "let's get that shower and, uh, engage in a little, uh, recon.  Whatdaya say?"

"Aye-aye, amigo," was the shy, but playful reply.

They surged through the water, then caught a wave and rode it to the beach.  Scampering out, they grabbed their discarded clothes and the towels, then sprinted for the condo.  They dried off before entering, tossing the wet towels and dirty clothes onto one of the patio lounge chairs.  Inside, Chance led the way back to the large bathroom off the master bedroom.  The shower was huge, and the two heads made it easy for both men to wash at the same time.  They rushed through the process, eager to explore the new possibilities that had opened up between them.

Chance stepped out first, grabbing a clean towel and quickly rubbing himself dry.  He made it as far as the middle of the bedroom before Benny Ray caught up with him.  His heart was pounding, and his belly was full of butterflies when the sniper dropped to his knees in front of him.  The sniper pressed his lips lightly to the pilot's belly, just above the tangle of dark hair, them dipped his head so his lips could slid down to the waiting cock and out along the hard shaft to the knob.  He looked up at Chance through his long lashes, his expression almost angelic, but there was a hint of the devil in the dancing blue eyes.  Then he lunged forward and swallowed the black man to the balls, sweeping his breath away.

Chance cried out his pleasure and slumped over Benny Ray, his belly pressed against the sniper's forehead, his cheek against the man's shoulder.  The black man stroked Benny Ray's sides, following the line of his lats from armpit to waist.  From there he felt even lower, tracing the hard, fuzzy ass.  He let his fingers slide forward along the lower curve of the man's thighs to tickle at his dangling balls.  And then he reached up and gripped the Southerner's cock.  He gave the long, thick shaft squeeze, and Benny Ray instantly squeezed back, tightening the muscles of his throat around Chance's pole.  The pilot groaned softly and retraced his earlier route, moving down the shaft, over the firm round nuts, and across the hard ridge of his perineum to his tightly pressed crack.  He parted the sniper's ass and touched the silky soft pucker hidden inside.  Benny Ray grunted, his pecs flexing against Chance's thighs.

Carefully, Chance pushed gently, felt resistance, and pushed again.  On the third try he breached the defenses and slipped up inside the silken heat.  He stirred his finger around and felt the sniper's sphincter grab his knuckle, flex, and then relax.  It was too much for the pilot.

Chance straightened and pushed Benny Ray away from his twitching cock.  The blow job was too much, too intense, too likely to make him come now, not later.  And he wanted to wait for later.

He pulled the sniper to his feet, kissed him, hand searching out the straining pole that pressed against his belly.  A moment later, Benny Ray pulled back and shook his head.  "Easy, Chance, my control's not too good right now, amigo."

The handsome black man grinned.  "Tell me about it.  Let's cool off a minute."

The sniper nodded.

The pilot sat down on the edge of the bed and gestured for Benny Ray to do the same.  He did.  Fighting the urge to reach down and stroke himself, the black man asked, "You ever done this before?  With a man, I mean."

Benny Ray blushed, but nodded.  "When I was a kid."

"But not since then?"

A shake of his head.  "Met Mary Ellen, fell in love, got married, joined the Corp, took a couple of oaths."

"And you're a man of your word," Chance finished for him.

Benny Ray just nodded.  "But I'm divorced now, and I'm not in the Corp.  And you've been haunting my dreams since the Major brought us all together."

Chance smiled.  "I hear you, man, loud and."

"What about you?" the sniper asked.  "All those babes I see you with, is it just for show?"

"Not hardly," the pilot replied, feeling his cock jump as Benny Ray stared at it.  "I love the ladies, I truly do, but there's times I need more, you know?"

Another nod.  "Take a look," the pilot said, pointing to a picture on the nightstand.

Benny Ray swung around and looked.  A handsome black man sat, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of another man, an Asian.  They were clearly in love.  "That Dorian?"

"Yeah, and Phillip, his lover.  They've been together for eleven years."

"Damn," Benny Ray replied.  "Another year and they'll have Mary Ellen and me beat."

"You miss being married?"

The sniper turned back to met Chance's eyes.  "Some parts," he admitted.  "I miss havin' someone to love, someone who loves ya back."

It was Chance's turn to nod.  "A quick fuck just isn't the same."

The sniper grinned.  "Nope, but it'll do in a pinch."

"Like you'd know," the black man teased.  "Hell, Benny Ray, you've been officially divorced for what?  Three, four months?"

"Two months… and three days," he replied.  "But who's countin'."

"And how many ladies have you been with?"

"None," the sniper admitted.

"What are you waitin' for?"

The sniper stood.  "Hell, Chance, what do I know about the whole dating scene?  I got married right outta high school.  And it wasn't like I played the field before that.  Besides, I don't want to make the same mistakes again.  And I don't wanna have ta lie about what it is I do."

Chance leaned forward, honestly curious.  "How many?  How many have you been with, total?"

Benny Ray looked a little uncomfortable, but he shrugged and admitted, "One guy, one other gal before Mary Ellen."

"Whoo-e," Chance replied, "you're a regular hermit!"

The sniper paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, then grinned.  "I spend too damned much time jackin' off, thinkin' about you, to go lookin' for a lady."

"Mmm," Chance purred as he pushed off the bed.  He crossed to Benny Ray, capturing him and pulling him in for another long kiss.  They were both moaning softly when they finally stepped apart.

"What do you like?" the pilot asked.

"Whatever you want," was the reply.  There would be no turning back now.

"I want to bury my dick in your ass," Chance purred.

Benny Ray turned around and bent forward, hands on his knees, spreading his cheeks wide.  "Do it," he ground out, his voice thick.

Chance quickly stepped to the nightstand, pulling out what they'd need.  Then he was back behind the sniper.  He knelt, kissing the man's ass cheeks and tailbone while his finger moved down the deep cleft of his crack.  Benny Ray leaned forward more.

Pouring lube into his hand, Chance rubbed it across the pucker, probing it gently with his finger.  Benny Ray groaned softly as he felt Chance push in to the second knuckle.  Circling his finger, he worked to loosen the tight opening for what was to come.  When the muscle was rhythmically grasping at his finger, Chance pulled out, then pushed back in with two fingers.

"Ah, damn, that feels good.  It's been a helluva long time."

"I can tell," the black man replied.  "You're tight as a miser's wallet."

"Just keep doin' what you're doin'," the sniper panted, pushing back to force the fingers in deeper.

Chance pushed both fingers in a far as they'd go, then twisted them back and forth, feeling the tight ring of muscles begin to relax.  He pulled out halfway, then pressed back in and twisted some more.

"Oh yeah," was the grunted reply.

He worked the tight passage a little while more, until Benny Ray's legs were beginning to tremble and his cock was drawn up tight against muscled gut.  Then he pulled out.  He drew back, blew softly on the sniper, and watched him tighten and then relax.  He blew again, watching the man's hole dilate until Chance could see the rich pink inside of him, the sweet secret region where he wanted to plant his seed.

"Move over to the bed," Chance said, his own voice rough with need.

Benny Ray moved.

Standing behind him, Chance rubbed his back, his broad shoulders, and his tightly muscled sides.  His own cock was so hard it arced, the head pointing slightly up, making it the perfect weapon for a full-fledged assault.  He stepped closer, humping Benny Ray's crack, rubbing his belly, and jacking his cock with his lube-slicked hand.

For his part, Benny Ray leaned forward, bracing his hands on the bed, then flexed his cheeks and groaned his willingness to be ridden to the edge and over into bliss.

Chance hurriedly tore open a condom and rolled it down his pole.  Grabbing the lube, he squeezed out a glob, then rubbed it onto his hardness.  He tossed the tube onto the bed, then grabbed the root of his cock and rubbed the bloated knob along the sniper's crack.

Benny Ray pressed back, hissing, "Hurry."

Chance pointed his knob at the superheated pucker that offered entry into Benny Ray's strong, hard body and pushed.  There was a slight resistance for a moment, then the pucker opened for him and he slipped into that molten glove.  He thrust forward, sank in deep, drove his hips forward, and impaled his friend to the hilt.

The muscles danced across Benny Ray's broad back, and his breathing grew ragged, irregular.  Chance waited, stroking the sniper's ass, rubbing his taut belly, anticipating a sign.  It came: Benny Ray reached back, gripped the pilot's hips, and began pushing him back, then drawing him in deep inside of himself.

Chance clamped his hands on the man's shoulders and started pumping in and out of him, sinking deep into the heat, then withdrawing every gleaming, veiny, bloated inch of his cock so he could see their lovemaking as well as feel it.

He pulled Benny Ray back against his own body with a loud smack and began nibbling the solid ridge of his shoulder.  He reached down, grabbing his cock in one hand and one of his nipples in the other.  He twisted the hard nub and jerked on his cock, making the sniper writhe and dance, bouncing up and down, riding the pilot's pole.

The heat grew, intensified, became unbearable.  Chance cried out his orgasm, pounding the rhythm of it deep up Benny Ray's ass, spewing his seed into the tip of the condom, milked dry by the strongly clutching chute.  The sniper howled his own release as Chance's was ending.  He pushed back against the black man, flexed, and writhed as Chance jacked the come out of him.  It shot free in thick arcs that landed on the bedspread, one after another, until the pilot wasn't sure when it might end. 

When it finally did, Chance carefully pulled his still semi-hard cock free.  Peeling the condom off, he dropped into the small wastepaper basket next to the bed, then stripped the bedspread back and collapsed onto the blankets.  Benny Ray crawled up beside him and dropped with the deeply satisfied groan.

"Good?" Chance asked.

"You gotta ask?" the sniper returned, the words almost unrecognizable, his face buried in the pillow.

The pilot rolled onto his side, then kissed Benny Ray's shoulder.  "Just wanted to be sure," he continued.  "I didn’t hurt you, did I?"

The sniper looked up, meeting Chance's eyes.  "No way," he said.  "That was the best sex I've had in years."

"And I'm just getting started," the black man promised.

Benny Ray grinned.  "If that's the case, then we better get them steaks on the grill, 'cause I'm gonna need my strength to keep up with you."

"Damned straight," Chance agreed.  "And after supper I'm going to–"

"No," the sniper interrupted.  "Don’t tell me.  Show me."

"Oh, I'll show you, Benny Ray," he replied, scooting closer.  "I'm going to show you everything I know."

"I might have a couple tricks of my own," the sniper teased.

Chance rolled forward, whispering "I'm counting on it," against Benny Ray's lips before he claimed them in a long, loving kiss.


End file.
